The Nightmares That Bring Us Together
by CreativeReading
Summary: Steve finds out he's not the only one in Stark Tower plagued by nightmares. (Darcy/Steve - ShieldShock) Rated T out of an abundance of caution.
1. Chapter 1

It always started off the same.

He was on the train.

And then, Bucky fell.

He would wake up in a cold sweat, barely able to catch his breath, his insides in knots.

It had been bad enough when he thought Bucky had died, but to know that he had been tortured and twisted by Hydra again and again over the decades was more than Steve could bear.

And after months of searching, he still couldn't find him anywhere.

00000

He woke with a start in the pitch black room and then fumbled around for the light. He tried to be careful; he'd already broken one lamp during his stay at Stark Towers. Finally, his fingers found the switch and he turned it on, blinking at the sudden influx of light.

He looked over at the alarm clock next to his bed and saw 2:45 a.m. in glowing green numbers. He sighed as he sat up, scratching the back of his head. Too early to get up.

He stood and stretched, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for hours. After he was "defrosted", he went through a stint of nightmares about the war, about Bucky dying. Slowly, over the months, they faded. Fury had tried to get him to see a shrink when the S.H.I.E.L.D.-mandated psych evals came back, but Steve stubbornly resisted. He couldn't imagine opening up to a stranger, no matter how well-intentioned.

The nightmares came back in full force after he found out that Bucky was alive. As soon as Steve got out the hospital, he and Sam spent months looking for him, tracking down every lead Natasha sent them and still nothing. Bucky was trying hard to stay a ghost, to stay one step ahead of Hydra.

And that kept him one step ahead of Steve.

Steve pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxer briefs and grabbed a matching sweatshirt from the closet. Slipping on his socks and tennis shoes, he headed for his door. Tony was in the process of renovating dozens of offices and conference rooms into apartments for his fellow Avengers. Steve's apartment was half-done. The living room, bathroom, and bedroom had been completed and furnished, but like most of the other apartments, it lacked a kitchen.

There was one large room on their floor which had been designated the "hangout room" by Clint. It had a huge gourmet kitchen that looked like it belonged in a small restaurant, as well as overstuffed couches lining the walls and a big-screen T.V. Steve wondered if Tony was delaying the construction of everyone's personal kitchens in an effort to force them to socialize more than they would otherwise.

As he walked to the other end of the hall, Steve shook his head, wondering again why he was even there. After the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. , he and Sam had spent nearly six months looking for Bucky. But, the trail grew colder and colder, until it became positively frigid. As much as Sam protested, Steve couldn't see putting him through any more hotel rooms and cramped airline seats as they traveled the world trying to find Bucky. He sent Sam back home to D.C. where he still had a job waiting.

And then, Steve called Natasha.

Both she and Clint had ended up at Stark Tower. Neither of them had a job and undercover work was a bit hard when all of your personal information was uploaded to the internet. So, they ended up at Stark Industries, just like Maria Hill. So, Steve made the call, and after twenty minutes of reaming him out for not calling earlier, Tony invited him to stay at the Tower.

Steve opened the door to the hangout room, hoping to find some relief and to be able to get back to sleep. Most pharmaceuticals didn't work on him after he had the serum, but for some reason, warm milk still seemed to soothe him enough so that he could drift off to sleep. It was a trick that his mother used to use when he woke up crying from a nightmare as a child. She'd take out a small pot and warm up a bit of milk over the stove. Then, she'd hold him on her lap as he sipped it, whispering soft words of love into his ear.

Steve felt childish that he needed the ritual of a warm mug of milk to lull him back to sleep, but he really couldn't take another sleepless night. A light was already on in the kitchen portion of the large room, so he made a beeline straight for double refrigerator. He took out the milk and poured it into his mug. At first, he had rolled his eyes when Tony had presented him with a mug with a copy of his shield on it, but he had to admit, it did make it easier to know whose mug was whose when they all crowded around the breakfast table in the morning.

He put the mug in the microwave and started it up. He could have done it over the stove, but he didn't want to have to wash out any extra dishes. When the microwave pinged, he heard a soft grunt behind him.

He turned around and saw a woman waking up on the couch on the far side of the room. She was in green plaid flannel pajamas, a blue comforter wrapped around her. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She sat up and grabbed a pair of glasses resting on the coffee table in front of her.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake anyone up," Steve said sheepishly. She looked familiar and it took Steve a moment to place her. Tony had pointed her out a few days ago, seated with Thor and Dr. Jane Foster, who were visiting from England. Steve hadn't seen much of them since they were still getting over jetlag. He tried to remember the woman's name, Dr. Foster's intern, but for the life of him he couldn't. He thought it began with a D.

"No worries. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was scrolling through Tumblr and I must have dozed off," the woman said with a smile, holding up her phone.

A very nice smile, Steve thought.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"Something like that," she said evasively. Steve saw that although she looked young, she had dark circles under her eyes that seemed to age her.

"Me, too," he admitted as he held up his mug of warm milk.

"Well, you've been through a lot," she said kindly as she stood, wearing the comforter around her like a robe and walked over to where he was. "Hi, I'm Darcy," she said with an outstretched hand as she approached.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Steve," he said as he shook her hand, holding onto it a bit longer than necessary.

"I got that," she said wryly. "So, does the warm milk help?" she asked as she waved over to his cup.

"It does for me. I could make you some?" he offered.

She smiled again and the room seemed to light up at it. "That'd be nice."

He got out a blue mug from the cabinet and opened up the refrigerator door. "Okay, so we've got whole milk, 2%, 1%, non-fat, almond, soy, vanilla soy, and unsweetened soy. What would you like?" he asked.

"Uh . . . wow. 2%?" she replied.

"Alright," he replied as he filled up the mug.

He put the mug in the microwave and turned back to her. "Gotta love modern appliances."

She nodded. The seconds seemed to stretch until the microwave dinged again. He handed her the cup and she smiled as she took it. "Thanks," she said, heading to the large kitchen table, her fingers wrapped around the mug.

Steve followed and sat down next to her, sipping his milk. He loved the feeling of warmth emanating from the mug, although he doubted he'd be able to sleep anytime soon.

"So, you work for Dr. Foster?" he began, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded. "Unpaid intern. Well, I get free room and board, which consists of crashing at Jane's mom's apartment and eating all her food. And, I get to save the world from time to time."

"Yeah . . . the Greenwich thing." He remembered reading the S.H.I.E.L.D. files after the attack.

"Yep . . ." she said with false bravado, but Steve could see her shudder.

"I read the reports on that. It seemed pretty . . . intense," he said delicately.

"Just end of the world stuff," she snarked, but she looked down, not meeting his eyes.

"There were a lot of aliens involved in that, right? Trying to kill anyone who stopped them?"

She kept looking down and just nodded, her eyes still downcast.

"Do you have trouble sleeping? Nightmares?" he asked.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "Stupid, right? I mean, Jane and Thor did all the heavy lifting. Thor even had his mom and brother die. And I'm the one that ends up a mess. Night terrors, panic attacks. It's so dumb." She pulled the comforter closer around herself.

"Hey . . . hey. It's not dumb. We all deal with things in different ways," Steve said. "I've had them, too. No one's immune."

She cocked her head to the side. "You, too?"

Steve nodded, the first time he'd actually owned up to it. "First, it was about the war and my friend dying. But after D.C., . . . ." he trailed off, not able to complete the sentence. "You're not alone."

"Thanks," she said, sipping her warm milk again.

Steve sat there a moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, he downed the rest of the milk and stood. "I guess I . . . I should head back to bed."

"Me, too." She followed him back to the kitchen sink. They washed out their mugs and placed them on the drying rack. They both headed out the door together, walking side by side in companionable silence. Halfway down the hall, Darcy halted, waving to a door with the number 4 on it. "This is me. Thanks . . . for listening."

Steve nodded. "Anytime. And I mean that, anytime."

Darcy smiled and turned to go, "I'm going to hold you to that," she called out over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

_You'd better_, Steve thought before he went back to his room.

That night, Steve had a hard time sleeping, but it had nothing to do with his nightmares.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>- So, I still haven't decided about this one. It could be a one-shot, a short story, or a long multi-chaptered one like "The Captain's Bride". I still haven't made up my mind. I hope you've enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch. 2**

Steve woke up the next morning with a smile on his face. That was a rare enough occurrence lately. His mind replayed the night before and his smile widened a bit more. It had been nice to talk to someone, relate on a personal level.

It didn't hurt that she was a knockout, either.

His mind flitted back to the nurse in the apartment next door and his attempts to connect with her. Despite what he had told Nat, he'd actually tried more than a few times to talk to his supposed neighbor. Finding out that she was an undercover plant set up by S.H.I.E.L.D. had hurt more than he thought it would.

Steve hadn't given much thought to anything like that in a while. The last few months with Sam had been intense. Just when they thought they had caught up with Bucky, he'd slip through their fingers. Steve knew that he was on the run from Hydra, but a part of him wondered if Bucky was intentionally running from him, too. It killed him to think of what his best friend had gone through.

What he was probably still going through.

Steve swallowed, his good mood evaporated. He got up, shedding his boxer briefs on his way to the shower. _It could be worse_, he thought wryly as he turned on the hot water. _At least we don't have communal bathrooms_.

As he scrubbed his hair, he wondered if he'd get to see Darcy that morning. He imagined her across the breakfast table, her vivid blue eyes sparkling. He'd have to sketch her, he decided. Try and capture her on paper. It had been over a year since he'd drawn anything. He remembered how much he used to enjoy it. Even as a child, every bit of scrap paper he could find, he'd fill completely with doodles and drawings. He remembered his mother calling him "her little artist" and how proud she had been of him, how kind and encouraging.

He shut off the water and toweled off fast. His time in the Army had gotten him used to getting ready quickly in the morning. Even on his days off, he always showered and dressed shortly after waking.

He put on a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, his de facto uniform lately. He grinned a bit as he bent down and tied his boots. It felt odd not to spend all his down time reading mission briefings or answering emails about team assignments. That was a part of his old job that he didn't miss a bit. The paperwork had exploded in the last seventy years. Before, a mission report might consist of a couple of typewritten pages. Now, it was easily several hundred pages of text and analysis.

No, he didn't mind not having the paperwork at all.

Still, he felt adrift.

Looking for Bucky had given him a purpose. A reason to get up every day and push forward. And now, with the search postponed for the foreseeable future, once again, he had no idea what he was going to do.

He'd only been at the Tower a few days, but he had no real job to do. Nat and Clint were on the other side of the globe, working for Tony in some sort of corporate counterespionage. Bruce was practically living in his own personal lab, taking up an entire floor on one of the upper levels.

And Steve . . . well, he didn't have much to do. Supposedly, he worked for Tony now, but as what, he had no clue.

Steve headed out into the hall, his steps quickening a bit as he thought of the prospect of seeing Darcy at breakfast. He hoped that she had gotten some rest the night before. He opened the door to the large common room and his face fell as he scanned it and he saw it was empty, save Thor.

"Steven! It is good to see you, my friend!" Thor said heartily, a grin affixed to his face. He was seated at the large kitchen table, a steaming plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. "I am sorry. If I had known that you were coming to breakfast, I would have made more."

"That's okay, Thor. I appreciate it," Steve said, mirroring his easy smile. He genuinely liked Thor. They had gotten off to a rocky start when he and Tony had first captured Loki, but Steve understood. Thor had spent a thousand years as Loki's brother. Seeing him become twisted into a nightmarish murderer hurt Thor to the core.

And although their circumstances were different, Steve knew a little of what that was like.

_Now, his brother's gone. His mother. He's on a different planet_, Steve thought. _Kind of puts things in perspective._

Steve busied himself with scrambling up a half dozen eggs. His serum-induced metabolism required at least three or four times as much food as before. He looked over at Thor as a he turned on the stove. "So . . . how are you holding up?"

Thor paused in his eating, his expression thoughtful. "I am well. I do miss Asgard. My friends. But, this is where I belong. With Jane. Here on Midgard."

"And . . . your dad?" Steve asked carefully. He remembered reading a bit in the S.H.I.E.L.D. reports of a falling out between them.

Thor took his time answering him. After a few moments, he began. "My father . . . we did not see eye to eye on a great many things before I left. But . . . in the end . . . he gave me his blessing. In his own way, he encouraged me to make Midgard my home. To protect it."

"Hm . . ." Steve said noncommittally as he finished up with his breakfast. He took his plate over to the table and sat down across from Thor. He was about to start eating, when he saw that he had forgotten his coffee. He got up and walked over to the sink, getting his mug from where it was drying. He saw the blue mug next to it, the one that Darcy had used the night before.

He poured himself a cup, glad that Thor had made an entire pot, and sat back down, giving Thor a wide smile. Maybe he could find out more about Darcy from Thor. "So . . . um . . . Darcy. She seems . . . nice."

"She is a loyal friend. Quick-witted. Jovial." Thor's face fell a bit. "Well . . . . usually."

"I saw her late last night. On the couch. She's been having trouble sleeping?" Steve tried not seem too pushy as he fished for information. He put salt on his eggs and then took the first bite.

Thor nodded. "She's seen more in her young life than most warriors fifty times her age. A few years ago, Loki unleashed the Destroyer on the town I was in when I was banished to Midgard. The destruction he caused on that unsuspecting village . . ." Thor's voice caught and he gave Steve a small smile. "And then again, not long ago, when Malekith threatened to plunge the universe into darkness . . ." he trailed off, setting his fork down. "The dark elves . . . they tried to kill her. On more than one occasion. She was not trained as a warrior. It is not the life that she chose. And yet, time and time again, she's been exposed to this type of violence."

"She's taking it hard," Steve supplied. He was right. She'd been through a lot.

"She tries to hide it, but yes, I believe she is struggling with the aftermath." Thor shrugged his shoulders. "Even after a thousand years of battles, I must admit that these last few years have weighed heavily on me as well."

Steve's eyes widened at Thor's admission. He assumed that Thor's age and experience with war had hardened him. "Really?"

"I am not made of stone. What has transpired lately is more than any one person should have to bear. Seeing my brother corrupted into a stranger. Having my mother murdered. Losing Loki once again, just when I had hoped to be truly reconciled." Thor swallowed thickly, pushing his plate away, staring at Steve. "Darcy is not the only one who finds sleep elusive."

Steve nodded, hoping to come across as sympathetic. "I know what you mean. When you go through things like that . . . they stay with you."

"Indeed." There was a long, awkward pause and then, Thor took up his fork. He pulled his plate towards him again, fixating on his meal. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about it any more.

"So . . . . um . . . what do you do all day? While Jane is working with Darcy?" Steve asked. He realized that Thor and he were in a similar position. Ready for battle, but with none in sight.

"I train," Thor said, picking up a slice of bacon and biting into it.

"Train? What for?" Steve asked.

"If the last few years have taught me anything, it's that the next battle is just around the corner. There is no time for sloth," Thor said gravely. "One must always be on alert, ready to take up the sword . . . or hammer." He gave Steve a smile.

Steve nodded sagely, but the truth was, he hadn't even thought of training. "Aren't you just naturally . . . ?" he waved at Thor, his biceps nearly ripping the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

"Asgardians are strong, but one can always improve. Become faster, more agile, more skilled in battle."

"I can see that," Steve said good-naturedly.

"I have a splendid idea. We should train together. Sparring with a worthy opponent is always a good challenge. Tony has set aside a training room on a lower floor," Thor said excitedly. "Have you ever wielded a sword?"

Steve stifled a chuckle as he shook his head. "Can't say that I have."

"Then, it is settled. Once you have finished your meal, meet me in training room six on the floor beneath this room." Thor wiped his face with a napkin and stood, picking up his empty plate and taking it to the dishwasher. "I'll inform Jane as to where I'll be and I'll meet you there shortly."

_Sword-fighting with Thor. This should be interesting_, Steve thought. "Why not? I'll see you there."

Thor nodded as he left the room.

_Well, at least I have something to keep me busy_, Steve thought, briefly remembering his fight with Thor and Tony in the woods. _Now, let's hope Thor doesn't accidently hack my head off._

_And maybe, just maybe, I can find out a bit more about Darcy._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>- So yes, this will be a multi-chapter because of your sweet reviews and encouragement. At the moment, it looks like it'll be a short story versus a huge novel, but who knows?


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